


Nice Things For Dean (That Sometimes Disturb Sam)

by mansikka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is a Little Shit, Established Relationship, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, Sam Is So Done, Sam Ships It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 01:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5892832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1 x Cas doesn't want Dean to be hungry<br/>1 x Cas buys Lush things for Dean<br/>1 x Cas and Star Wars<br/>1 x Cas and 'what's a lap dance'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cookies

“Thanks.”

Sam takes the offered coffee from Cas’ hand, holding open the door of the diner as Cas balances the other two cups of coffee and a bag full of cookies in his own.

“You shouldn't encourage him, you know.” Sam’s eyes flick down to the grease-stained bag and back up to Cas with a grin.

“You’d prefer his whining that he’s hungry and hasn't eaten for hours on the drive back to the motel?” Cas asks wryly, taking a sip of his coffee.

Sam laughs at that, “Good point.”

“Besides,” Cas adds, rolling his eyes, “It’s not _you_ who has to hear about him ‘getting a belly’. He doesn't parade back and forth in front of your mirror poking at non-existent fat.”

Sam tips his coffee to Cas in salute. “And I thank you every single day for that.”

“Not that I would complain if he did,” Cas adds with affection.

“Dude. Bordering on too much information,” Sam protests half-heartedly.

“It is not.” Cas denies, shaking his head. “Too much information would be me telling you how I give your brother ample exercise to ensure he never need worry about gaining weight.”

“Dude!” Sam groans in horror, colour creeping across his cheeks.

Cas’ laugh is triumphant. Making Sam blush is a new game that Dean has taught him, and one he has come to take great pleasure in. “You know,” He begins conspiratorily, “When we-”

“No! No no no and no. No. I do not want to know!” Now Sam is yelling, just as they get into hearing distance of Dean.

Dean stands leaning against the Impala, staring at his phone deep in concentration. He looks up at Sam’s voice and quirks an eyebrow.

“What?” he asks, thumbs paused over his game of Candy Crush..

“Nothing,” Cas mumbles innocently, leaning in to kiss him. Dean’s hands drop and rest on Cas’ sides as he smiles into the kiss.

Sam makes a disgruntled groaning sound and shakes his head, walking around to his side of the car.

As Dean turns back to the car he takes in the amused scowl Sam gives Cas across the roof, closes Cas’ door for him and gratefully sips at his coffee before hopping in himself.

He hums contentedly as Cas offers him the opened cookie bag between his and Sam’s seat, taking a huge bite out of one and humming once again. He rests the coffee between his knees and pats his stomach thoughtfully, looking down. 

Sam looks over in horror.

“You don’t think-”

“No, Dean. I don’t think. Not at all.” Sam hurries out of his mouth, closing his eyes as though in pain.

Dean frowns, chewing and swallowing his bite of cookie. He catches Cas’ eye in the mirror, watches as Cas happily tucks into his own cookie. Cas winks back at him, smirking in Sam’s direction. Winking is a new thing that Cas does, and like most new things Cas does, Dean finds it unreasonably cute.

Dean’s pretty sure he doesn't want to know what’s going on between Cas and Sam in the strange silence lurking in the car, but shoves the rest of the cookie in his mouth and turns to grin wolfishly at Sam before revving the engine to life and pulling away.


	2. Lush

“What’s that?”

Sam pauses as Cas’ hand nudges against his arm, coming to a stop outside a small, brightly-lit store.

“What? Lush?” he asks, looking up at the sign before back down to Cas.

Cas nods, peering in through the window curiously and sniffing.

“Lush.” Sam repeats. “It’s like… It’s fresh made products for...bathing. And skin and stuff. Gift sets. You know?” Sam wrinkles his nose at the smell. “I always find the smell too overpowering.”

“I want to look,” Cas says determinedly, turning to look at him.

Sam grins. “Go ahead. I’ll…” his voice trails away as he looks up the street then nods towards a book store a little further down. “I’ll be in there.”

Cas nods again, walking through the door. Standing at a display near the counter he sees a dish with a bar of yellowy soap in, and a handwritten sign beneath it reading _Honey I Washed The Kids_. He picks the soap up, running a thumb along the one slightly rough edge before inhaling the scent, a blissful smile immediately covering his face. He picks up a pre-wrapped piece and wanders further inside.

He pauses in front of another display reading Shower Jelly. Prods his finger at the aqua coloured sample in the dish and grins as it wobbles. He’s not sure how it will work in the shower, but thinks it might be fun to try. He’s sure Dean will help him, and grabs a pot labelled _Whoosh_.

It’s at that moment he’s tackled by a member of staff, and finds himself wrist-deep in a bowl of soapy water that smells vaguely of ginger.

“ _Sugar Scrub_ ,” the assistant tells him, and whilst Cas looks at his newly exfoliated hand in wonder, he declines adding it to his pile of purchases.

He picks up a tub of _Dirty_ shaving cream, smiling to himself and Dean’s apparent mysophobia.

Cas then picks up a bubble bar called _Green_ , running his fingers curiously over its crumbly surface. In a clear glass tub next to those is a beautiful blue liquid; the sign tells him it is a _Big Blue_ bath bomb, and he picks up one of those as well. He’s not really sure what either of them will do but he’s certain Dean will help him understand.

Dean can be persuaded to do pretty much anything if it involves showering or bathing. Cas would share that inside information with Sam for future reference, only somehow he doesn't think it would have the same persuasive effect it does with him.

He’s on the way to pay when his eyes fall on another sign, this one saying Massage Bars. He swallows hard at the thoughts that immediately come to mind involving _Dean_ and _skin_ and _slippery_.

As he stands in the queue, somewhat laden down with his things, he silently praises himself for his final choice. He knew straightaway that despite the amazing smell of the _Soft Coeur_ bar, the _From Dusk ‘Til Dawn_ one was definitely more Dean.

He very much looks forward to getting back to the bunker and testing it out.


	3. Theater

Dean knows Cas is up to something when he runs back into the bunker just as they are about to leave.

He slides into the back seat with a grin on his face minutes later, a satchel strap flung over his shoulder and the bag pressed into his lap. Dean raises an eyebrow to ask a question and Cas turns his face away, looking out of the window.

“C’mon, dude. Queues are still gonna be ridiculous.” Sam says, looking at Dean expectantly.

It’s not exactly a date night with Sam being there, but Dean still can’t wait to show Cas Star Wars. He’s made him watch all of the others in the correct order: four, five and six before one, two and three, and Cas has shown enough interest for Dean to have high hopes of him enjoying the latest instalment almost as much as he intends to himself.

While Sam picks up their tickets, Dean and Cas load up with popcorn, snacks and drinks. Cas loves peanut M&Ms so there’s plenty of them, as well as a huge bag of weigh-your-own mix, which are mostly jellies and gummy bears.

They sink down into their seats, with Cas in the middle. He hands everything over to Dean for a second and bends down, rummaging in his bag. Dean frowns, watching as Cas’ shoulders move; clearly he’s laughing. When he sits back up with a silly grin, he clenches something between his knees then reaches his hands out either side of him, palms down.

Curiously, Sam picks up the long, thin item that’s that’s been put in his lap. It’s approximately the length of his outstretched hand and he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with it.

Cas sits back, flicking a switch about halfway down and laughing to himself as a bright green glow emanates.

Dean does the same, giggling beside him. “You bought us lightsabers?” he asks incredulously, his smile wide as his one buzzes blue to life.

“I did. Blue for you,” he says, fluttering his eyelashes which just makes Dean laugh even harder, “And green for me.”

They turn as one to look at Sam, who is staring at his red lightsaber with something like disappointment on his face.

“How come I got red?” he asks, and Dean can’t help laughing again at the petulant tone.

“Because you are not Mace Windu,” Cas says authoritatively. “You can’t have purple.”

Dean proudly throws an arm round Cas’ shoulders then, pressing a kiss to his temple before bursting out loud again at the look on Sam’s face.


	4. Lap

“You can’t tell me you don’t know what a lap dance is, Cas?” Sam’s voice is disbelieving, so disbelieving that he’s stopped lifting his beer, leaving it suspended somewhere mid-way.

“I do not.” Cas’ voice is certain, and that particular tone that says ‘don’t pick on the newly-human for not understanding’.

Sam’s not quite sure how they even got to this conversation, but wonders for the hundredth time how it always ends up being him that has to explain these things. “But,” he says, looking over in the direction of the bathroom where Dean’s just gone. “Dean...Dean likes…”

And then his voice trails away. Dean _used_ to like. Dean _used_ to spend a lot of their not-hard-earned cash on lap dances and other things that Sam chose not to think about. But in the time since Cas and Dean had been, Cas and Dean, he can’t now remember the last time Dean had gone to a lap dancing club. Clearly Dean is getting his kicks elsewhere.

Sam turns back to smile at Cas then, and there’s affection and mirth on his face as well as a blush when he says, “Well. Dean used to enjoy them. It’s...women usually either wearing very little or nothing at all, dancing for you. You know,” he flicks his bottle in Cas’ direction, “On your lap.”

Cas’ eyes show understanding. “Oh.”

Sam smiles, watching whatever thought processes are going through Cas’ mind, and then, Cas beams.

“Dean doesn't do that anymore.”

Sam can’t help but smile back at that. “No. No, I guess not. Since you two…” and his voice trails away, because there’s not really anything he needs to say to finish that sentence.

Cas huffs a little proudly, and Sam wants to laugh at the set of his shoulders but keeps it back; there’s no malice intended but somehow he thinks Cas might misunderstand. And then Cas looks at him shrewdly, twisting his lips in thought. “Is it just women?”

Sam is blank. “Huh?”

“Just women,” Cas repeats. “Just women who give the lap dances.”

“Oh!” Sam shrugs his shoulders at that, “I guess not. I mean…” and then the colour drains from his face, his eyes grow really, really wide and he looks at Cas in horror. Clearly, if the smirk on Cas’ face is anything to go by, Sam has realised exactly where Cas’ thoughts are headed.

Dean chooses that moment to slide back into the booth next to Cas, taking a slug of his beer. Realising he’s returned to a somewhat awkward silence, he sets his bottle down, eyes flitting between them both. He takes in Cas’ pleased expression and Sam’s horrified one, and narrows his eyes, wondering what Cas has done this time to turn Sam mute with embarrassment in his short absence. He’s kind of proud.

Dean raises an eyebrow at Cas, who shakes his head just once, smiling into his beer. He looks over at Sam and the suffering expression on his face, also shaking his head.

Dean shrugs, and slides his hand into Cas’ lap, lacing their fingers together. Cas squeezes back, swirling his thumb over the back of his hand.

Whatever it is, it’s probably somewhat better if he doesn't know, Dean thinks, and starts up a new conversation.


End file.
